Lacrimosa
by IntraSule
Summary: The sin of murder taints the Church, killing anyone involved with the Global Magnolia Dance Group. Private Investigator Lutz Beilschmidt races against time to capture the murderer before they get to the main star, world renowned ballerino Oliver Kirkland. Lutz and Oliver belong to ask-p2-germany and ask-2p-england respectively.


It could have easily been seen as a bad omen, the weather that overtook the night. Dark clouds rolled in the sky to loom above the Church, hiding the beautiful moonlight and twinkling stars from the citizens walking up to the double doors, only providing light in the form of clashing lightning whose awesome, frightful power inspire godly myths. Yet the storm that raged on outside did nothing to stop the opening performance.

In fact, it suited the performance, perfect to the mood of the tale to be told.

As soon as the last invited noble and his family were seated for the spectacle, a hush swept the crowd, leaving the expansive entertainment room silent enough for the crack of thunder to fill the air. One person strolled onto the stage, shoulders erect and chin tilted, until he stopped where he knew the curtains split in the middle; the dancing flames of the candles sitting in their floor length candelabra casting eerie yet bold shadows on the host's face.

With hands folded in front of him, just after the clap of thunder, the host Brother Francis announced to the excited yet politely waiting crowd, "Good Ladies and Gentlemen of the Evangelical Cathedral, welcome to our opening night. Here to grace us with their wonderful talent is the traveling dance group known the world over, the Global Magnolia Dancers. We present to you the number 'And Angels Cry' by Magnolia's soloist Rouge Olive."

To the audience's soft clap, accompanied only by strong anticipation buzzing in the atmosphere, Brother Francis exited the stage. The curtains parted to reveal a man sitting on the wooden platform, his lithe torso curving opposite the outstretched leg as his arms crossed over his chest. The performer raised his arms slowly to the start of sweet violins and drums as soft as a heartbeat. Then, as if the power of the thunder had filled him, the performer suddenly swung his arms down, slamming his palms against the floor –

Breathless. Breathless and dizzy from the panic that filled his bowels, the brother ran down the corridor under the watching eyes of the stone Saints, praying to each and every one of them for deliverance from this nightmare. Because it has to be a nightmare; no God of Brother Matthew's would be so cruel to send one of his death angels on such a stormy night, not on the day of the opening performance, something Brother Matthew had worked so hard on to help set up.

And yet, what else could it be? That he wondered as he slowed to a stop at the corner, where he murmured for help in each passing, hoarse breath. When he was sure that he was alone, he swallowed the terror lodged in his throat and craned his next, willing his heart to stop beating in his ears so he could listen out for–

He jumped at a loud, metallic clank rang in the corridor, then dashed around the corner to his escape –

On his toes and ready to dazzle the crowd, Rouge Olive makes a sweep of his arm and goes into a slow spin in the center of the stage. The tempo of the deep cellos and high violins sped up, Rouge Olive's movements following the sudden urgency in the music as he leaped and stepped this way and that, skillfully executing ballon and balancé. Was Rouge Olive calling to the angels watching them all from the dark clouds? The audience started to certainly think so, despite the statute-like stillness of the face under the artistically tousled red hair –

"My Lord, I pray to thee," Brother Matthew panted, though he knew that not even God could hear his pathetic pleas over the thunder that shook the hallway, "I pray to thee to extend thine hand to your sheep and protect me from the evil that lurks..."

The prayer died before it could completely slip through Brother Matthew's lips, his voice losing strength as he reached his shaking hand to the wall.

No door, no secret passages, just a wall of aged stone and blocks, a dead end–

Ladies fanned themselves, gentlemen dabbed their foreheads with their handkerchiefs, all of them leaning forward in their seats as the amazing Rouge Olive called upon the angels with his body. He spun and reached up and leaped and pirouetted, his movements whipping and snapping like the lightning that continued to lash out angrily outside; he was in pain, he knew nothing but the melancholy and rage in the music, cursing the Devil who made Rouge Olive sick and the angels in heaven crestfallen. In the slow moves and twirls, the audience could hear God heave a weary sigh for His sinning children–

With no where else to turn, Brother Matthew took a deep, trembling breath, and faced the direction he came. Down the corridor, he could faintly make out the shadowy figure of devil who came for him. The creature crept closer, his robe, much like the religious robe Brother Matthew himself donned, swishing along the cold, dusty floor with every quiet step he took. Brother Matthew tried to back away until he could feel the cool bricks of the wall press onto him, his eyes never leaving the ax in the demon's determined grasp.

The demon's piercing eyes chilled Brother Matthew and intensified the tremors running through his spine. Doing his best to put on one more brave face, Brother Matthew choked out, "Why, Brother? Why?"

In response, the attacker simply shook his head, raised his ax, and charged towards Brother Matthew, committing the horror so gruesome that not even the rain water that spilled through the window's shutters could clean the sin –

Rouge Olive slid onto his knees in the music's end, his arms returning to their former position. And angels did cry that night, their tears falling heavily from the sky.

* * *

A/N: Ah ha ha ha, so... Guess who started another story even though they have about four other stories they need to work on?

I couldn't resist, I just couldn't; I had this one brewing in my head for so long, and I just had to finally get this out there before I lost touch with the plot. Of course, that meant posint it without a thorough proofread, but I'll take care of it (and maybre improve it) once I update a couple of my other stories.


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